Читать книгу Australia: Bundles of Joy: Impossibly Pregnant / Top-Notch Surgeon, Pregnant Nurse / Caring For His Babies - Lilian Darcy - Страница 10

‘It doesn’t matter if he has two left feet as long as he’s an expert at horizontal folk-dancing.’

Chrystal, serial man-eater.

‘YOU two are dating,’ Tahlia muttered under her breath as she stretched forward, her head almost touching her knee.

‘Spending time together as part of a work assignment doesn’t constitute dating,’ Keely said, wishing the Pilates class could go on for ever. That way, she wouldn’t have to think about Lachlan Brant and the chaos he’d turned her life into. Concentrating on her aching muscles proved an excellent distraction, for all of two seconds.

Emma stood in one smooth movement and held out her hand to pull Keely up. ‘But it’s more than work. What about the flirting? And all this time you’ll be spending together as research? Don’t forget it was his idea, even though you were going to suggest it anyway.’

Keely had been pondering the very same question all day and, though she’d managed to finish the bulk of her work, her mind had constantly drifted to Lachlan and the way he made her feel in his presence—uncertain, excited, like being on a rollercoaster and not knowing when the next exhilarating plummet would be.

She’d tried to ignore her erratic hormones and focus on work. Nadia had finally announced her pregnancy and Keely was sure it was no coincidence that Raquel had entrusted this account to her. If she succeeded in satisfying Lachlan Brant as a client, she had a sneaking suspicion the promotion was hers.

‘It’s just that. Research. I learn more about the man; his website will reflect my efforts. Obviously, he wants it to be top-notch too; that’s why he came up with the idea for me to spend time with him.’

Tahlia finished her stretch and stood, taking a deep slug from her water bottle. ‘I know this promotion is important to you but don’t kid yourself. This man has the hots for you and, if I’m not mistaken, the feeling is entirely mutual.’

Keely hated it when her friends were right.

‘So? What’s wrong with having a little fun? It’s not going to affect my work. In fact, it’s going to enhance it.’

Emma lifted her long blonde ponytail, draped a towel across her neck and smiled. ‘Sweetie, there’s nothing wrong with having fun. I just think there’s more to it than that. If the guy was only interested in a quick roll in the sack, he wouldn’t be going to all this trouble.’

Expecting an argument from the ever-practical Tahlia, Keely looked at her.

To her surprise, Tahlia shrugged. ‘Sorry, I have to agree with the romantic one on this.’

‘Great,’ Keely said, ‘that’s all I need. You two agreeing for once.’

‘We’re just being objective.’ Emma handed her a sports drink and Keely drank deeply, hoping the electrolytes would help replenish some of the brain cells she seemed to have lost since she’d first laid eyes on Lachlan.

‘Which is probably difficult in your case, seeing as he keeps finding excuses to see you. Must be terribly distracting.’ Tahlia grinned and tossed her empty drink bottle into a nearby bin.

‘Remind me never to tell you two another detail about my love life.’ Keely slung her gym bag over her shoulder and headed for the showers.

‘Love life?’ Emma pounced on the words once they left her mouth as the girls fell into step beside her.

Keely bit back a groan. She shouldn’t blame her friends for encouraging her. She was doing enough fairy tale building in her own head.

‘Okay, you got me. I like the guy. He’s perfect. There. Satisfied?’

‘Not as much as you’re going to be if Lucky Lachlan has his way with you over the weekend away,’ Tahlia said, trying her best to look innocent while holding the door to the locker room open.

Emma giggled and Keely rolled her eyes, a small part of her hoping that her friend’s prediction would come true.

Lucy’s e-mail was the first Keely opened on Friday morning and, unfortunately, it didn’t help her frame of mind.

To: KeelyR@WWWDesigns.com

From: Lucy-PA@WWWDesigns.com

Subject: The Perfect Man

K,

Have completed formulating quiz for Flirt site.

Keely’s Collection was inspirational 4 the perfect man quiz.

Thought U might like to check out my work?

Maybe apply questions to LB, your PM, and get the answers back to me?

Luce

She stifled a groan. Not Lucy too! Emma and Tahlia egging her on were bad enough, now she had her trusty assistant on the case.

Quickly scanning the list of quiz questions, she couldn’t help but chuckle.

The Perfect Man’s most desirable asset is:

a) great pecs

b) great biceps

c) great butt

d) great ‘package’

Does the Perfect Man prefer:

a) boxers

b) jocks

c) thongs

d) free-balling it

The Perfect Man looks best in:

a) a suit

b) jeans

c) underwear

d) nothing at all

The Perfect Man’s best accessory is:

a) his cuff-links

b) his Palm Pilot

c) his tie-pin

d) you

Though she was tempted to answer’d’ to all of the above for a laugh, she typed a quick response.

To: Lucy-PA@WWWDesigns.com From: KeelyR@WWWDesigns.com Subject: The PM fallacy

Luce,

In my case, no such thing.

Nice work, though. Perhaps applying these questions to Aidan might be more appropriate?

Isn’t he your PM?

K

For someone who loved her scrapbook, and who had enjoyed jotting down quotes from her favourite people her entire life, she suddenly wished she’d ditched Keely’s Collection for a more practical guide. Perhaps something like Real Men Aren’t Perfect. Evaluate every relationship you’ve ever had and find out why.

She’d devised her checklist as a tongue-in-cheek exercise when dumped by Ray all those years ago, though she’d forgotten to apply it when Jon had come along four years later and she’d really fallen hard. Maybe if she’d remembered it she wouldn’t have gone through the heartache of losing a man she’d thought she loved at the time. She’d also realised that if a guy who’d openly professed his love for her could then run out on her after discovering her inability to have kids—then any man could.

Now, the fictitious man she’d described in her list had walked into her life. From his dark wavy hair and bluer-than-blue eyes to his fondness for doughnuts, he appeared perfect in every way.

And what was she going to do about it?

‘Damned if I know,’ she muttered as she scanned a few inter-office memos.

Lucy’s response came in just as she’d deleted the last one.

To: KeelyR@WWWDesigns.com

From: Lucy-PA@WWWDesigns.com

Subject: R all the good ones taken?

K,

Aidan is an accountant, therefore can’t be PM material

Luce

Shaking her head, she wondered when Lucy was going to wake up, take off her rose-coloured glasses—literally—and take a good look at what was right in front of her. Aidan seemed an ideal match for her and, though he appeared conservative at first glance, she knew he harboured a wild streak. After all, she’d seen the car he drove, and a maroon convertible sports car with cream leather seats didn’t seem too boring to her.

Add to that the abseiling equipment she’d glimpsed in the rear seat and there were definite possibilities there.

The guy seemed to have it all—good looks, a great job, he was polite and genuinely interested in Lucy. What more did the girl need?

Promising herself this would be the last e-mail she sent before settling down to work for the day, she responded.

To: Lucy-PA@WWWDesigns.com

From: KeelyR@WWWDesigns.com

Subject: Perish the thought!

Luce,

That makes him into figures. Particularly yours if

I’m not mistaken.

Your PM is due in today.

Y don’t U follow up?

K

(PS Get back to work!)

Taking a leaf out of her own book, she clicked on the icon to bring up Lachlan’s website and hoped she could focus on work and not on the weekend ahead. Though the logical part of her brain knew that spending time with Lachlan at his beach house was work, she had a sneaking suspicion that her romantic side was telling her otherwise.

Keely had watched Lachlan ride monstrous waves perched on an impossibly small piece of fibreglass for the last hour, her heart pounding most of the time.

However, it was nothing compared to the way it thundered in her chest as he jogged up the beach towards her.

The water-slicked wetsuit moulded to him like a second skin, delineating every last muscle of his toned body as he carried the surfboard under one arm as if it weighed nothing at all. He’d run a hand through his hair, sending dark spikes in all directions, while the deep blue of his eyes reflected the cloudless Torquay sky.

As he got closer his boyish grin lit a fire within her, its heat licking along every nerve-ending in her body, heightening her awareness till nothing else existed but this man, this moment.

‘So, what do you think?’ He planted the surfboard in the sand and leaned against it, looking like an irresistible advertisement for the sport.

‘I think you’re nuts for balancing on that little board and inviting the sharks to nibble at your toes.’

His smile broadened. ‘Care to try?’

‘The balancing or the nibbling?’ The words popped out before she could stop them and his smile turned to laughter.

‘I didn’t know you had a foot fetish. Lucky I’m a psychologist.’

She rolled her eyes, enjoying the light-hearted banter they’d been trading all day. The drive from Melbourne to Bell’s Beach had taken just over an hour, and her initial nervousness at spending so much time confined in his car had vanished as they’d made small talk.

‘Then colour me crazy.’

He squatted down beside her, effectively blocking out the sun, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘Care for an in-depth one-on-one consultation?’

His voice dropped lower, its tone seductively husky, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that he wasn’t offering her a professional evaluation.

She leaned back on her outstretched arms in an attempt to put some distance between them. If she’d been hot before, having him this close ensured she entered meltdown.

‘Maybe I’m too complicated for you to figure out?’

‘Maybe I like a challenge?’

‘Is that what I am to you?’

He shook his head, showering her in a fine spray of seawater droplets, a welcome relief of cool against her fiery cheeks. Whatever made her think she could match wits with this man, trade quips with him like an experienced flirt?

Though she prided herself on being a savvy city girl, she was still an inexperienced amateur when it came to the male sex.

‘You’re an intriguing woman, Keely Rhodes. One I’d like to get to know a whole lot better.’ He tilted her chin up and brushed his thumb along her bottom lip, his gaze locked on hers.

‘We’re here to work, not socialise,’ she blurted out, eager to say anything to distract herself from the hypnotic intensity of his stare or the way her lips still tingled after his brief contact. ‘Isn’t that what you had in mind when we initially discussed this?’

She expected him to break eye contact, look guilty and lie through his teeth.

Instead, he surprised her.

‘Why can’t we do both? I thought you’d gain valuable knowledge for the website by spending time with me. You know, give it a personal touch.’ He captured her hand in his, intertwining fingers in a possessive gesture that quietly thrilled her. ‘However, I admit to wanting more from the weekend.’

‘I’m not going to sleep with you.’ She pronounced it more as a statement to convince herself rather than a warning to him.

Instead of dropping her hand, he tightened his hold. ‘Wow, some guy really did a number on you, didn’t he?’

To her annoyance, she blushed. Now wasn’t the time or place to talk about her disastrous history with men, her self-esteem problem and the ensuing damage it had caused. If she got started, he’d be compelled to charge her by the hour! Besides, psychologists hadn’t been her favourite people following long and tiresome hours spent in counselling and, though her hormones were clouding her judgement when it came to this guy, she had no intention of losing her wits completely and trusting him.

‘I’d rather not talk about it.’

To her relief, he nodded. ‘Fine, then I’ll talk and you listen. I’m not one of your slick city guys. Sure, I like Melbourne and its vibe, but I’m a country boy at heart. I love the fresh air, the bush, the ocean.’ He gestured to the vista behind him as if reinforcing his words. ‘I’m not into lies or pretence. I value honesty above all else, and when I like something I acknowledge it.’

Rather than soothing her, his words sliced into her heart. Honesty? Great. What would he say if she revealed her secret to him?

Which one? a tiny voice in her head prompted—the fact that you heckled him and slandered his professional character or the one you use to push away every man who tries to get close to you?

‘And I like you. That’s what this is all about.’

She swallowed, buoyed by his refreshing attitude and terrified beyond belief. No man had ever been that up-front with her. And it scared her. A lot.

Searching for the right words to deflect his attention—which she liked way too much—she bumbled along in predictable fashion. ‘I’m flattered, but right now I need to focus on my career. I haven’t got time for anything else in my life. I’m thinking business and you’re—’

‘Thinking pleasure?’ he interrupted, raising her hand to his mouth and nibbling on her fingertips with small, precise nips.

‘Mmm …’ She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, instantly forgetting all the reasons why she shouldn’t be doing this.

‘Stop analysing and just feel,’ he murmured, the soft touch of his mouth against her palm sending bolts of electricity shooting up her arm.

Suddenly her voice of reason gave her a big, loud wake-up call—so much for business—and she pulled her hand away before he could undermine her stance to keep things between them strictly professional any more than he already had. ‘That’s rich coming from you, the king of analysis.’

He shrugged. ‘Work’s work. You and me, that’s something else entirely.’

She took a deep breath, hoping a lungful of sea air would clear her mind, for the longer he stared at her as if she was the only woman in the world for him, the harder it was for her to respond.

‘I’m not sure what you want from me,’ she said, making a lightning-quick decision to tell him exactly how she was feeling. He wanted honesty? She’d give it to him, at least for the moment.

‘I want a website.’ He smiled, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

‘And?’ she persisted, unable to shake the feeling that they’d reached an important crossroad in their brief relationship. Working relationship, that is.

She didn’t have time for mix-ups or games. If he wanted more from her than a fabulous website, now was the time for him to speak up. And for her to run for the hills as she usually did.

His grip on her hand tightened. ‘I want to get to know you better. Nothing more, nothing less. Think you can handle that?’

‘As long as we don’t lose sight of the real reason I’m here. And that’s to work.’

Despite her false bravado, a small part of her was scared out of its wits.

She could listen to her self-talk about He’s work, he’s a means to an end, he’s the best opportunity for that promotion you’ve ever had.

However, what would happen if she switched off the rational, clear-thinking voice inside her head and followed her heart for once?

While spending the weekend away, with him in her face all the time, it didn’t bear thinking about.